


Recovery

by rilina



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: Community: 31_days, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-19
Updated: 2006-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rilina/pseuds/rilina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jin finds something that he thought was lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the finale. For 31_days's May 19th theme: _Who's reflected in the broken glass?_

Jin never mentions this to Fuu, or Mugen for that matter, but his glasses wash ashore the day before they leave the island. If he had ever really needed them, he wouldn't have found them, half-submerged as they are in the murky waters of a tidepool. But his vision has always been as sharp as his swords, and the glass and metal gleaming in the sun catch his eyes from almost ten meters away.

The glasses are in a sorry state after their time in the sea; scratched, bent, one lens cracked nearly in three. The surf must have hurled them up against the rocks during the previous night's storm. Or perhaps they were damaged when he lost them in the water after his fight with Kariya. Jin had been sure he was dead when the sea closed over his head. Nearly three weeks later, he still occasionally wonders if he's imagining being alive. Nor is he entirely accustomed to the idea of being glad that's the case.

He rinses away the worst of the sand and grit, then dries off the intact lens with the sleeve of his new, plain kimono. The glasses only look more disreputable when he's done. It's hard to believe they're the pricey affectation that he purchased in Edo just days after killing his sensei. But unless the locals have made a habit of losing their rare and costly spectacles while fishing, they definitely belong to Jin. These are the frames he wore when his friends hunted him down in their sensei's name; these are the lenses that kept those friends' blood out of his eyes.

So he lays the glasses flat on the nearest rock with ceremonial care and then, without further ado, stomps on them with all the force his recovering body can muster. For the first and only time, he regrets not wearing metal-soled geta. But even beneath his sandals the crack of the glass is satisfying.

He pitches the pieces back into the sea.

"Finding money was better," he tells the waves.

When he gets back to the hut, Fuu asks him where he's been. He's late, and she and Mugen have already eaten most of his dinner.

"Fishing," he tells her.

"Ah, Jin, you know you never catch anything," she says, evidently disappointed that she can't steal the rest of his rice. He pretends not to notice her eyeing what little is left.

"Nothing worth keeping." He sits down opposite Mugen and picks up his chopsticks.


End file.
